07-09-2015, 02:12 AM
please excuse. first words with her ever.
Nebibi had finally been allowed out of her cage.
She refers to it as a cage, but really she had merely been a sheltered child. Michaelis tended to overprotect his children, especially the little black infant he had stumbled upon somewhere around the den. He had been swift in claiming her as his and had promptly brought her to another nursing mare that had just given birth to his own child hours earlier.
She didn’t really remember much of her birth-mother. Bright, almost garish orange comes to mind and a desperation that had been conveyed with delicate, awed touches. She remembers soothing, loving words and a reluctant goodbye – eyes that had been filled to the brim with a deep sadness. Her father always comforted her with that fact that she had obviously not been coldly abandoned, but there had to have been an important reason.
He always hated to see his children ponder the sad things in life.
But he was also reluctant to let her out on her own.
But Nebibi came out the winner of that little disagreement.
She brushed her face amongst the long, swaying grasses of the field and breathes in the light aroma of the plentiful wildflowers as she leisurely walks through the crowded field. The young mare was uniformly black with the exception of a bright orange blaze that ran down her face – a remnant of her birthmother. She was excited for the chance to finally be more independent of her family. But Nebibi wasn’t familiar with the idea that most waited for others to approach those who caught their interest. She was simply too antsy to remain unmoving.
She refers to it as a cage, but really she had merely been a sheltered child. Michaelis tended to overprotect his children, especially the little black infant he had stumbled upon somewhere around the den. He had been swift in claiming her as his and had promptly brought her to another nursing mare that had just given birth to his own child hours earlier.
She didn’t really remember much of her birth-mother. Bright, almost garish orange comes to mind and a desperation that had been conveyed with delicate, awed touches. She remembers soothing, loving words and a reluctant goodbye – eyes that had been filled to the brim with a deep sadness. Her father always comforted her with that fact that she had obviously not been coldly abandoned, but there had to have been an important reason.
He always hated to see his children ponder the sad things in life.
But he was also reluctant to let her out on her own.
But Nebibi came out the winner of that little disagreement.
She brushed her face amongst the long, swaying grasses of the field and breathes in the light aroma of the plentiful wildflowers as she leisurely walks through the crowded field. The young mare was uniformly black with the exception of a bright orange blaze that ran down her face – a remnant of her birthmother. She was excited for the chance to finally be more independent of her family. But Nebibi wasn’t familiar with the idea that most waited for others to approach those who caught their interest. She was simply too antsy to remain unmoving.
nebibi
I've played down every feelin' I've felt
And I bottled them up 'til the well ran over